The sun is just poking up over the back hill. Half asleep, I walk out to survey the yard before going to work. An unexpected shiver runs down my spine. It's cold! After weeks of uninterrupted dry heat, Autumn has briefly brushed her cool hand across the Palouse. It's a reminder of things to come. The signs have been there ... the lush green fields of grass and wheat have turned a bright golden hue, the leaves on the trees are drying from the lack of water, and a few tomatoes in the garden have dared to start turning yellow and orange. The bees are starting up early, as usual, pushing these last days of sun to prepare for winter. A quick inspection last weekend found a good number of bees, honey, brood, and a big fat golden queen. So, I've left them to do their thing until I interrupt them again later in the fall to settle them in for the long haul through winter.

This seasonal changing of the guard was violently announced a few nights earlier when a flurry of lightning storms crashed through during the night, ending the slumbering doldrums of summer heat. It was, perhaps, a fitting event. Today, Kara and Trevor leave us for opportunities in Montana. We've had a wonderful summer with them. The parting is bittersweet. We are sad to let them go, but enthralled with the excitement in their eyes, the places and things they will see and do, and thankful for the memories this brief time we have spent together has brought us. It was, at times, hectic, dogs always underneath, each of us bumping into one another with the bustle of living together as family. They too, I'm sure had to endure our "set" ways and my occasional grumpiness. But I hope the memories will be of the good times, of the salmon and pasta, the fresh berries, the laughter, the family and friends. It is a good reminder of what I'm sure Jess is tired of hearing me tell her ... "Enjoy where you are now. These will be the good ol' times you will be laughing about later." I know I will be fondly remembering this summer for a long time.